A Distraction
by merick
Summary: An alternate look at the Asgardian Universe. When Thor drags Loki into battle the younger brother finds more than he intended to with his distractions. Hurt/Comfort/Romance


The stable smelled as they often did, hay, baked brittle by the sunshine, warm leather, sweat and horse manure. It was hardly noticeable any longer, really. Well, perhaps a little, his nose was sensitive, and but for the last few days, it had been awhile since he'd been in the regular company of horses. There was a longer story there, not one he cared to consider just then, or share with anyone. At some point, he knew, it would be one for the chronicles, after all, how could a magnificent beast like Sleipnir be lost to the ages, his name would be remembered, and likely the story of his conception. Ah, the things Loki had done for the gods and for Asgard. Best left to the past, at least for the present. He smiled to himself at the word play. It was always good when you could amuse yourself, especially when so few others cold match your sense of humor.

His mount was waiting for him, Brutus, truly a beast in his own right. He was a massive black horse with the matching mane that hung like a waterfall from a strong neck. This horse bent for no man; not even a god. Loki liked that. What he didn't find himself so much in favor of just then was the stirrup, whose lashing had pulled free, and the tiny knots required to restore it to usability.

"Boy!" He shouted out to a smaller figure, half hidden near a feed bin; entirely easy to miss.

"Sir." It turned towards him, standing and hurrying over. "How can I help you?" Blue eyes looked upwards at Loki, strands of pale white hair falling over them. Not that Loki took notice just then.

"You have small hands, fix up this belt will you?" He kept his gaze on his horse, not glancing at the person to his right who bent over the loosened ties, fingers quickly weaving the cords back into their eyelets.

"I don't know why they make the damned things so tiny." He mused to himself, not expecting the answer he received.

"The sisters make them sir, they like them to look handsome for the warriors." Now closer, the voice seemed obviously more delicate than he had expected. He finally turned his head to the figure beside him.

"You're not a boy." Loki remarked, wrinkling his brow at the now obvious girl in his presence.

"I'm sorry sir, I can fetch one of the stable boys for you if you prefer? Or the master?"

"No." He looked down at her work; finely woven cords. "You'll do."

"Thank you, sir. Would you like to try it now sir?" She patted Brutus on his neck, smiling at him and backed away respectfully from Loki, bowing her head.

Loki tested one foot in the stirrup with a solid push, and then swung himself up into the saddle.

"Much better."

"I'm sorry for the trouble sir, I'll go over all your tack myself when you return from your ride."

"You work in the stable? I've not seen you here before."

"The stable master kindly allows me to come and work with the horses when my chores with the sisters are complete for the day, some days it is quite late, after the sun sets."

"You work with the horses, you work with Brutus here?" His tone was one of amazement.

"Yes sir, just to help them exercise, to prepare them for when they are needed. If you would prefer that I not work with him, I shall refrain."

"No, it is good for him to have exercise, I doubt you shall tire him out."

Indeed, she was a small girl, it hardly seemed as if she was big enough to even straddle a horse, let alone control one as it ran. No doubt she took them out to the outdoor paddocks and let them run there. It didn't even look as if she was big enough to hold the shovels required to clean their stalls. But, no matter, if the stable master found some use for her, then so much the better.

"Have a good ride sir, Brutus has been looking forward to it." She smiled and patted the horse once again, just below the reins that fell across his cheek. "I will see you later beautiful boy." She spoke to the horse.

Loki could have sworn that the horse pushed himself gently against her body as he stepped out of the stable doors at Loki's command.

Curious. He thought to himself as he directed the horse towards the small copse of trees to the right of the paddocks.

Loki found his ride was distracted, not the distraction as he had hoped it would be. He was out of practice in preparing for battle, but somehow he had been cajoled into this one by his brother. Word had been received that this small colony, on this rather small planet, was in the path of a warlord, and Thor, following in the path of the All-Father had ridden to its defense, and dragged Loki along with talk of glory, and honor. In truth, Loki had just been bored and the chance for a good scrap was appealing, no matter the foe. And, if it had the incidental effect of raising his stock with Odin and the denizens of Asgard, then what harm could come of it?

He had planned on taking the horse out to familiarize himself with the beast and the battlefield. Such things seemed so deliberate; actually knowing the spot where the conflict was going to be taking place; it was frighteningly civilized in fact. It certainly wasn't the type of conflict that Loki was used to; his was on a much grander, intergalactic scale. But such things had been sparse of late (which was possibly a good thing, Loki didn't spend a great deal of time ruminating on such politics, not like Odin and Thor did). Though he had grand plans for himself, he relied on himself to fulfill them, not other players, and he had patience and the gift of a very long life.

But he found his mind straying from thoughts of the battle and back to the anomalous girl in the stable. Besides the strange mannerisms around the animal, she had an oddly familiar energy. Certainly, she was not the typical waif that one found hanging about in such places, looking for scraps and coins. There was an ingrained confidence in her despite her shy stature. She was a mystery, and Loki did enjoy a puzzle, especially one with bright blue eyes. And there were several more days to fill before this staged battle.

He had decided at some point during the night, as he had been laying looking at the ceiling of his room, counting spider webs, that he intended to spend some time observing the girl from the shadows. Not a difficult thing to do when you could make yourself look like just about anything to blend in. The power had served him well in the past, and it seemed like an interesting pursuit, so much more than staring at arachnids. So, after spending the day alongside his brother, and feasting with him and the elders of the village that evening, he excused himself, (well since they were quite into their cups by then it hadn't been nearly so formal as that), and made his way to the stables once again, wrapped in his familiar shadow guise.

As luck would have it, she was there again, in the outdoor paddock with a white horse, sitting atop the stile, cutting an apple into wedges with a little knife. Invisible to all it was easy to draw close to her, enough to hear her speaking to the horse as she held out the apple to him.

"I saved this for you from dinner Bolt. I know it isn't much, I'm sorry. Here you are."

The horse seemed so delicate as it gently took up the slice from her outstretched palm and crunched it away with a little shake of its head.

"Once the orchards are full again I will be able to bring you lots of apples, instead of just the leftovers from the fall barrels. It won't be long and I'll be able to share with all of you." She held out another slice that the horse took up.

"There are a great many warriors in the village right now. I met the man who is to ride Brutus today."

It seemed she spoke with the horse as she might have with a girlfriend. What was odd about it was that he seemed to be as attentive to her in return; perhaps it was just the offer of the fruit?

"He had a beautiful smile." She seemed to smile herself in remembrance of their encounter. "I don't know who is to ride with you Bolt. But I know you will carry him with honor. Shall we practice?" She sheathed the small knife in a scabbard at her belt, after wiping it down along her sleeve.

To Loki's amazement the horse came alongside the stile and the girl slipped a leg over his back and bent down to twine her fingers into his mane with no saddle and no bridle. He began to walk and then to gently trot as she rocked astride him with the swing of his increasing gait. The girl rode beyond Loki's ability to eavesdrop, but she didn't seem to be speaking any longer, at least not audibly, though somehow she seemed to be guiding the horse, leaning right and left seconds before the horse followed. Each gentle swing of her hips changed his direction, even as her fingers in his mane seemed to spur him on to greater speed, metered only by the size of the paddock. Loki could imagine the smile on her face as she ran with the horse; for a moment his curiosity forgotten in the sight of her. Oh yes, he needed to find out more about this one.

Alcohol worked to loosen the tongues of both men and gods. And like every other town, village or city that Loki had passed through, there was a gathering place that provided ample access. So, disguised as one of the soldiers who had accompanied his brother to the battle he joined a clutch of local men, providing an ewer of the local brew to fill all their cups, with a generous tip for the lady of the house. They were well on their way to full-on inebriation before he had even arrived, and he and his ale were warmly greeted as old friends.

"I was around the stables earlier," he started his conversation; there was no need for subtlety at all, these men wouldn't have understood it. "And there was a girl there?"

"Ah, that'd be Siri." The man to his left announced. "She's there most nights, when the sisters let her out."

"So, she has dedicated her life to the gods then?" Loki probed.

"No, the sisters just look after her. Story is she has no parents and no husband."

"I see."

"I've asked the sisters if I could marry her." Another man piped up, looking old enough to be her father, at least. It was hard not to cringe at the thought of that man with his hands on her. "But they said no."

"Of course they did Jacob, she needs a young man, not a grandfather like you." His friends needled him. They all seemed inclined to add their opinions at that juncture.

"The sisters won't let any men near her."

"She needs to find a good husband. Perhaps one of these handsome soldiers here?"

"Not a soldier, what can a soldier offer her? An empty bed, a life of loneliness, or destitution with her children if he should be killed. Now a general, a man with a pension and some standing, that would be better."

"Like the new commander here?" He must have been referring to Thor, which made Loki twitch. "He probably has a house, a pension, something to sustain her."

"She'd be better off with a farmer."

"Oh, like you Roulf?"

"At least a farmer would have land for her, animals to care for, food to eat. A good, hardworking girl like her, she'd give a man plenty of strong children to help him."

"Have you seen her with the horses, the way she rides? Bareback." Loki prodded.

"Lucky beasts, getting in between her legs like that."

Loki's hands curled into fists at the way the conversation had turned, but before he could respond (because he felt he needed to) the lady of the house cuffed the man who had spoken quite soundly along the side of his head.

"You best not say things like that. A good, pious girl like that. The gods will punish you."

"What the gods don't know," The man began, but then somehow fell from his seat, striking his nose rather soundly on the edge of the rough table. His hands flew to it, blood flowing through his fingers.

"I told you," the Lady said to him, "the gods protect their own, especially from the likes of you."

There was a grunt, and the man stumbled out, still holding his broken nose. Loki grinned and then took his own leave. He had what information he needed.

It had been simple enough to procure a basket of apples, after all, he was there with the men who were to save the village itself, there was little that could be denied them. And depositing them unnoticed within the stable was an even simpler task, especially considering it was, at the time, quite deserted, though it did not remain that way for long. Loki had eschewed dinner so he could keep watch on the stables for her arrival. The sun had barely begun to sink beneath the horizon of her world when she arrived; a serene smile on her face, willowy tunic hugging the curves of her body, worn leather boots on dancer's feet. Indeed, she did fairly dance into the stable, light on her feet, stopping only when she saw the bushel resting near the stacked hay bales. She looked around, not seeing him, of course, as he had masked himself to her vision.

"Hello?" She called out, craning her neck around the corners of the stalls, expecting to see someone, the stable master perhaps? But no one answered.

"Such a wonderful gift." She remarked to herself, examining the contents; a mound of apples, polished till their skins fairly gleamed in the dimming light. "My darlings, a special treat for you this evening." She then announced to the denizens of the stable.

Loki wondered if she might take one for herself first, but she didn't, instead she took as many as she could wrap into her tunic, exposing just the barest hint of skin at her midriff and proceeded down the line of stalls, stopping at each one to extract an apple and offer it to the horse within, all graciously (if a horse could be said to be gracious) taken from her palm, with nary a nip. She returned again and again to the basket to take up more apples, returning then to her charges. Loki imagined that he could almost hear her singing as she spread those treasures around, but of course he could have been imagining it, she was captivating like that.

He snuck away to the doors of the stable; the ones a visitor would be using (not entirely certain why he had tried to move in such a manner, being invisible and all), and then made himself corporeal once again, announcing his 'arrival' with a deliberately heavy footfall.

"Good Evening?" He called out to her, knowing that she wouldn't have been able to see the door from her vantage at the end of the row of stalls.

"Hello?" She hurried to the door. "Hello." She repeated, with a hint of enthusiasm as she saw him, her smile widening, cuing his own. "How lovely to see you again sir."

"And you as well. I trust you have had a good day and evening with your horses."

"I have indeed sir, someone has left us a bushel of apples." As she spoke the words she looked straight at him, twisting her lips into a knowing grin. Loki could not help but return the smirk.

"It was you wasn't it?" She asked.

"It was. I hope that was not overstepping."

"It was very kind, and very generous of you. The horses will love you more than me now when I tell them who their benefactor has been."

"Well I doubt that very much."

"They can be fickle things some days."

"But not for you I imagine?"

She smiled and took a seat on the hay bales with the nearly empty basket beside her. She sighed, "Hopefully they will forgive me for sending them away?"

"To battle?" He inquired as he took a seat beside her, the basket between them. "You needn't be frightened; the soldiers are well trained and fierce. Your charges will be safe."

"I pray for that nightly, that all your men return safely, as do their mounts."

"You are a devout girl it seems. And you live with the sisters you have said. Will you take their vestments when the time comes?"

"No, may the gods forgive me."

"You have other plans?"

"Not really I suppose, just that I feel as though there must be more for me than prayers and the cloister."

"A husband, children?"

"Another way to serve them I hope. I don't know where the All-Father will guide me."

It was difficult for Loki not to say anything, to not discourage her faith in Odin, who likely had no concern whatsoever in the direction her life was to take.

"Look." She pursed her lips together in a sorry little grin that perhaps betrayed her own knowledge of exactly what Loki had been thinking. "There are two apples left." She held up the larger of the two and offered it to him. He took it, brushing his fingertips against hers as he did, feeling the tiny shiver from her, or was it his own?

"Only if you will have the other one for yourself." He said, looking directly into those blue eyes. "And not give it to the horses."

"If that is your wish sir, then yes, I would very much enjoy the treat." And she retrieved the remaining apple and her knife to cut off a slice. Her closed eyes and slight sigh betrayed its sweetness as she bit down into it.

Loki was not so delicate, taking a fierce bite from his. It made her laugh, a sound like bells. He wiped his mouth against his sleeve, briefly hiding his own grin.

"If I might be so bold sir, I don't believe that I have introduced myself. My name is Siri."

"And my name is Loki." It hadn't even occurred to him to lie about his true name and nature. Though he thought the better of it in retrospect as he watched the color drain from her face and her drop to the ground on her knees, eyes cast down towards the floor of the stable.

'Oh, please forgive me." She whispered, "I had no idea, I have been too familiar. I've been so stupid."

"Siri?" He fell to his knees beside her. "Siri what has happened?"

"You are a god, the son of the all-father, I have not shown you reverence, please do not punish me."

"Punish you? Why would I do something like that?"

"I have been disrespectful, the sisters say that we must revere the gods in word and deed."

"You have been nothing of the sort, please, raise your head, look at me. Am I such a monster that you cannot bear the sight of my face?"

"You are not a monster." She whispered, slowly raising her gaze to his. Loki could see the sheen of tears and the fear in her eyes, and it made them sparkle even the more. The rush of guilt was overwhelming; he hardly heard her next words, so deeply could he hear the pounding of his own heart in his ears.

"You are beautiful."

The words gave him pause.

"You need not fear me Siri. I have no reason to be angry at you."

"But?" She began, only to be cut off by him.

"Do you know what it is like?" He stretched out his legs in front of himself casually, and leaned back against the hay bales, "to have all the people around you guard themselves against any perceived wrong word?"

"No, I do not."

It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to just open up to her then; Loki didn't even question the impulse, he just began speaking, staring straight forward at the worn wood that made up the bottom of a stall gate as if it had hypnotized him, compelling him forward.

"Since I was a child I have been treated as an outsider." He began, pictures and feelings forming in his head as he spoke, memories of his childhood, tainted perhaps by the information he had received as an adult about his true parentage. "Conversations hushed as I approached, heads bowed, smiles were placed. Do you know I don't think I ever even had any friends of my own?" He shook his head a little. "My brother's friends tolerated me, mostly, probably at his behest." Not one had spoken unkind words directly to him, they wouldn't have dared, as far as they knew, he was a prince of Asgard, and despite his impish nature (His mother had used that word once, trying to reassure a sad little boy with an endearment), he was an interesting playmate, if not a cherished one. "No one has even sat down beside me and had a conversation or a drink for no other reason but pleasure. No one but you Siri."

"I am sorry sir." Her voice was still unsure, bereft of its earlier joviality.

"No more apologies. I have heard too many of those over the years."

"Of course." She tried to smile. "Perhaps we might have something in common, even though I am nothing but an orphan. If I might be so presumptuous, I suppose I have no friends either. I grew up within the cloistered walls, the only child there, the sisters are my guardians and teachers, and the stable master a teacher as well. There are the men of the village." She wrinkled her lips. Loki knew what their conversations likely tended towards. "But they have intentions that I should not speak of."

"If you will be my friend Siri. Perhaps I can be yours in return?"

She laughed quietly again. It was a reassuring sound for Loki.

"My first true friend a god. I am a lucky person."

"Perhaps that luck is mine in finding you, and we shall be lucky together." He proclaimed taking another noisy bite of his apple. "And tomorrow you will ride out with me."

"But the stable master?"

"Cannot say no to a god."

Brutus was saddled, his reins loosely draped over the gate to the stables when Loki arrived; ruk sac thrown over his shoulder, riding boots, leathers (and no cape or helmet). The stable master himself was waiting, a large man who likely hadn't ridden in many years, owning to fact that he might no longer fit in a saddle. Certainly, he had the power to handle a horse, there was strength in those arms and hands, he could certainly shoe one and hold it steady as he did. He might have been a perfectly affable person, but just then he seemed terribly nervous. His face was red, and he mopped his brow frequently with a rag that rarely seemed to leave his left hand. He had no beard and patchy hair on his head, almost like a tonsured monk; which only magnified the beads of perspiration that stood like raindrops on his skin. Perhaps he hadn't believed Siri, thinking that she might be lying to him about whom had asked her to ride. Perhaps he simply wanted a glimpse of a god, not that Loki was regaled as such just then. He could, with a simple thought outfit himself in gold, but felt no need to perform for the man's pleasure or inclinations. So, he greeted him with a nod while taking the reins in his gloved hand and asking after Siri. The master's answer was a stumbling apology about her having to fetch something from the blacksmith before she could be given leave to go, but the truth was likely something much different. The man was obviously sizing him up in a nervous sort of way, perhaps at the behest of the sisters, to determine if his motives towards Siri were noble or nefarious. No matter, his request could not be refused, at least not by any of them.

Siri returned, a little out of breath, and handed the man a small wooden box, its contents not revealed, and truly not all that important as far as Loki was concerned. It was all part of the conspiracy he figured, proved by the master's disinterest in the box as he held it in one large, damp paw, not caring to open it or store it somewhere appropriate. He seemed, in fact, quite happy to have been relieved of his task in the subterfuge, and to scuttle away (in as much as a man of his girth could be said to scuttle).

"I'm sorry that I have taken so long with my chores. I'll just bring Bolt out and we can leave." Siri offered, smiling shyly at Loki. It was an endearing thing, her attempt to veil her excitement. It was also flattering. Though he did find himself surprised as she returned with Bolt, the white stallion from the earlier night, astride his back, perched only on a blanket, her hands loosely wrapped in his mane.

"No tack?" He asked.

She shook her head. With a shrug he swung himself into Brutus' saddle and led him out of the stable and the small paddock onto the path he had taken on his earlier ride.

Siri came up beside him, looking so very small on her mount, her bangs falling into her eyes as she bent her head downward.

"Where would you like to ride?" She inquired.

'Show me your home." Was his answer, to which she perked up a little. Even more so when he followed it up.

"And tell me about your dreams."

There was method in letting her take the lead; being able to watch her as she rode, nearly at one with the animal, swaying to guide him, rocking her back against his gait, her arms tightening against his mane, her legs against his withers, hearing the whispers she spoke to him on the wind: to watch her free of her bonds to the sisters and the stable. He hardly paid attention to their surroundings, or even how many miles they had traversed, only that the sun had grown higher, and the air sweeter, with blossoms and the crisp scent of flowing water. She slowed her horse to come alongside him.

"There is a lake ahead, not terribly big, but beautiful none the less. It is where I try to come when I am able to ride by myself beyond the paddocks and the village."

Her cheeks were a little flushed and her blue eyes sparkled, seemingly with the happiness of the freedom she had been allotted by the day, and his request.

"I look forward to seeing it."

"Just over this little rise here and you will be able to see it below."

Her horse knew the way on its own it seemed, as she had released her hold on his mane, tucked up her legs, and swiveled herself to face Loki as she had talked, while Bolt continued forward. And soon they did mount the grassy mound, stopping for a moment at the top to look down upon a pristine body of water glittering in the sunlight that was straight overhead now. It was ringed on all sides but they one they approached from, by gigantic coniferous trees whose roots reached out all the way to the banks, gaps filled in by ferns and tall grasses, paths visible in them where it seemed that animals trod them down to reach the water. The treetops echoed with the calls of birds, singing to each other, as they did in the springtime. It was as pastoral as Asgard itself, and for a moment Loki let himself be caught up in the peace of it, remembering laying in the grass as a child, watching the cloud forms and dreaming of the future. He turned to see her, and to see that she was smiling at him.

"I am glad you understand." She whispered, and gently urged Bolt onwards towards the water.

Bolt knew exactly which outcropping of rocks to stand beside so that she could slip off his back; and presumably remount him there as well, without the need for a step or stile to put her on an even footing to throw her leg over his back. Once unencumbered, Bolt wandered off to the water and bent his head to drink. In a more traditional method, Loki dismounted, and leading Brutus by the reins he joined her, watching out over the water.

"Shall I leave Brutus to join Bolt then?" He asked.

"They won't leave us, I promise."

"I'm not sure I would mind if they did strand us here."

Siri laughed. Loki could have sworn the birds went quiet for just an instant, and then answered the sound with their own pretty caws.

"It is beautiful, isn't it?" She asked, sitting herself down on a table rock, wrapping her arms around her knees. Loki slipped his pack from his shoulder and sat down beside her, looking out at the lake, watching the ripples shimmer outwards as the horses disturbed the surface with their noses.

"I've brought a little luncheon for us, if you are hungry?"

"How very thoughtful of you. Perhaps I can offer something as well." She stood. "I'll return in a moment." And she darted off into the woods. Loki was curious, and a bit amused at her actions, but he set about to spreading out the bread, cheese and meat that the Innkeeper had provided for him. He even had a skin of wine and two wooden carved cups; not that he was certain that Siri even drank. Certainly, if her guardians had known about that, they might have found greater excuses to prevent her from accompanying him that day. But he had no nefarious intentions. It was intoxicating enough just talking with her.

"I've had some luck." He heard her voice from off to his left, where she had disappeared. She emerged from the copse of trees with her tunic rolled up against her abdomen, one hand holding it in place, just as she had done with the apples for the horses.

"What have you found Siri?"

Somehow, gracefully, she sat herself down beside him, without unfurling the package she'd made of her tunic or losing any of the fruit within until she was secure.

"The sisters call them winter's berries." They were the size of small grapes, almost translucent. "The bush is a hardy one, the first to bud after the winter's snows recede, and the first to bear fruit. The sisters have many within the cloister walls, they harvest the fruit for the gods, as an offering. But I found one little bush out here, and I thought perhaps the gods might not mind so much if I had the berries just for us to share. They are so very sweet and remind us of the coming of spring and the bounty to follow."

Loki knew exactly what they were, though they went by a different name on Asgard. The berries were used to make a drink called ambrosia, named so for the concentrated juice that came from those berries that remained small, and spent all their energies in their sugars. It was a drink for the gods, in that, Siri had been correct.

"Please try one."

Aware that he would have to reach into her lap to pick one up, he hesitated. Siri didn't seem to understand the reticence, her smile fading into concern.

"I promise, they don't taste awful." She took one in her right fingers, letting the remaining bunch roll loosely against her lap as she put it between her lips and chewed, trying to convince him. Her eyes closed for a moment, holding onto the sensation, perhaps remembering past occasions when she had had the fruit, grasping at that small flash of happiness that he threatened to destroy.

Carefully he reached forward, brushing, unintentionally against her leg as he did, and took up a berry, putting it thoughtfully into his mouth as well. It was delicious, a sweet burst of sugar with a hint of the fermented drink he remembered from feasts with Thor and his mother.

"Thank you, Siri." He whispered, trying to restore her reverence for the occasion. "For sharing them with me. You are a very generous soul. Between me, and your horses," he smiled at her and let the sentence fall to nothing.

"I know I haven't much to offer,"

"You offer me your company Siri. It is a great deal more than others have done."

"When you speak in that way, you sound so sad. Surely everything in your life has not been so lonely?"

"Some days it is hard to remember anything else." Then he laughed quietly at himself. "But you are correct, I have been lucky enough to have great adventures, to learn different languages and customs, to feast on different worlds, and to know the love of a mother that was unconditional." He stopped himself. "Siri, I am so sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"What? That your mother loved you? What a beautiful thing to share with me. And what a beautiful memory."

"Perhaps it would be best if I just shut up for awhile and let you talk to me instead. Please, have something to eat." He gestured at the little packets he had spread out on the rock between them. "And I have wine, if you would like?"

"The sisters might think that was scandalous."

"So, you will have some?"

She giggled.

"Good." Loki hadn't wanted to drink alone, but just then he was quite prepared to drain the skin himself. It wasn't often that he found himself at a loss for how to proceed, there were always plans, and contingencies, but never something quite like this, or quite like her. It was a relief to pour out two glasses and offer her one.

Their conversation tended to the benign for quite a while; comments about the horses, about her discovery of the berries, about her escapes; which were not really escapes, so much as interludes away from her duties at the cloister.

"Sometimes, when I come here in the summer, when there is no one else about I will go into the water and plunge my head under the surface and hold my breath and listen to the echoes of my own heart beat in my ears. I listen for the words of the gods to tell me what I must do, where I must go. Perhaps you think me to be quite mad for such a thing." She turned her gaze back out to the water and drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms about them. "I suppose you have never heard those prayers."

Loki pondered that statement for a moment, thoughtfully, and not so thoughtfully, his mind wandering away from the reflections on her prayers, to the image of her, her hair plastered down to her face, curling over the bones of her cheeks and jaw. Her tunic clinging to her skin; or perhaps she shed her clothing and swam nude? The vision made his heart beat quicken for a moment. And he took a deep breath to dispel it.

"I can see why you come here, it seems a perfect place to think, or let your mind wander, or to simply go blank."

"I haven't so many things to think about, not as you must, so there is little I need to push away. My life is simple. At least it always has been until now."

"And now we have come."

"Enemies have come where we knew none before. The peace I have always known is threatened, and for what? Things beyond my understanding. We have no riches, no great resources to be tapped or mined."

"You have land, and these aggressors know that this land is beloved of the All-Father, and that we would come to protect it. This fight is not with your people, it is with mine. And you are pawns in the middle."

"Will everything that I know be destroyed?"

"I will do everything in my power to prevent that from happening."

"Thank you." She hugged her knees a little tighter.

"Terrible dreams come to me now," she began.

"Tell me?"

"Of blackened earth and poison in the water. Of dark skies and only the cries of the dying instead of the laughter of the children."

"It is only your worries that bring these images to you. You have the might of Asgard here to defend you. My brother himself leads the army. There will be cries, but they will be those of they who dare to threaten you."

"I cannot bear the thought of anyone being harmed, though I am not so naïve to believe that it will not be so."

"You speak with the weight of the world on your shoulders Siri."

"My shoulders are not so strong I think, to hold all of that."

"Then I shall hold you on mine."

She turned to him, tears glistening in her eyes.

"I am sorry, I am certain you did not think that your day would be spoiled by a simpering girl with bad dreams."

"Nothing has been spoiled dear Siri. Thank you for sharing yourself with me once again. You have made me feel," he paused, "more human than I have in a very long time."

"Perhaps we should be heading back? It would be embarrassing for them to have to send out people in search of us."

He hated leaving her behind. No, more than hated, ached to leave her behind in the stables, tending to both their horses. He would have been happy to care for Brutus himself, but the stable master was waiting, and a message from Thor had been conveyed that requested his presence in their hastily constructed war room. Intelligence was waiting, he surmised, and it pulled him away from Siri. He had been telling her the truth when he had said that she made him feel human. It was as he had said, comforting to have someone wish to spend time with him, wish to speak with him. It reminded him of his mother, his only link some days, to his humanity, especially when the malevolence of the frost giants threatened to steer him towards more dangerous paths. He would have preferred to stay in that mindset for just a little longer; but duty called.

Thor was in his element, and Loki was impressed to see proof of how much his brother had matured since his reckless youth. He was listening to the scouts and the soldiers, and not discounting their expertise in favor of his own desires to rush headlong into the carnage of battle. Loki had propped himself up in a corner of the tent, against one of the larger logs that had made up the stabilizing poles. He offered no insight into the plans, this was Thor's moment of glory (wasn't it always?), he was quite prepared to step in once things got out of hand, if things got out of hand. Well, things were always getting out of hand around the two of them weren't they?

(Indeed, it was as he had surmised, information from the scouts, Thor's three warriors, sent to spy beyond the fields of battle, returning with information that the opposing forces had begun to move towards them. There was no more time for planning or practicing, they would move with the morning sun. And that left Loki with precious little time of his own, and so many questions to be answered.)

The sun was well set and Siri was still at work in the stables. She'd seen to her horse, and to Loki's and had been prepared to return to the cloister; likely to face a gentle inquisition from the sisters, when the stable master had returned, many of the grooms in tow. He had not needed to vocalize it for Siri to understand that her horses, and the men, were off to battle. She was left to check on the tack for all the mounts, and to repair and replace what parts required it. She spent what seemed like hours, by the lantern light, tracing over every lashing and chain link till she could barely focus. And only after she was satisfied with every piece did she allow herself to relax placing her lantern on a safe shelf, and herself against a bundle of hay; soft enough to close her eyes for a moment.

It was the soft nicker that roused her.

The spindly legs seemed to be outmatched by the size of the elongated head, and Loki wobbled a bit as he tried to walk. He had known she would still be there, even at that late hour, and he knew that his distraction would only grow, and be detrimental to his skill set on the field if he did not delve just that little bit deeper into her. He worried about his appearance, but the shaky gait would only make the performance more authentic. And so he made his way up the alley between the stalls, the gentle clopping of his hooves echoing against the slat floor. When he saw her, resting against the hay bales, her head atop her crossed arms he nickered quietly and stepped towards her.

He watched as her eyes opened slowly, head turning towards him; or rather the form he had taken, a rowan foal with a white star on his forehead and a black mane. Even as tired as she appeared to be, a gentle smile grew across her lips.

"Hello little one," she whispered, moving an outstretched hand, palm up, towards him. "Where did you come from?"

Loki nudged forward, brushing his nose over her palm, feeling her soft skin as she gently curled her fingers around him, caressing him tenderly under his equine chin. He took another step towards her, swaying a little on his hooves such that he rocked towards her, knocking her a little off balance. She laughed as she righted herself.

"None of the mares here are expecting." She screwed up her brow, trying to make sense of his appearance. "You must have come from one of the farms. Perhaps someone has wished to ensure your safety by lodging you here with us?"

Unconsciously Loki nodded. It seemed as reasonable an explanation as any.

"I will keep you company little one, for tomorrow the other horses will ride to war, it will only be you and I." Loki could see tears beginning to mist up her eyes. He came down on his haunches, to be on the same level as her and she draped her arms over his neck, pressing her forehead into his mane. Her sobbing was barely audible, but the way her hands quivered was obvious.

"I am so frightened little one. So frightened that everyone won't return. I know that we have the power of Asgard fighting for us, but I have had terrible dreams." She was speaking to him as she did the other horses, opening up with all her fears.

"There is a man. A kind man with beautiful eyes, and a smile that makes me feel weak when he turns it on me. He will ride tomorrow." She pulled herself away from Loki's neck, he shook his mane on instinct, and turned to gaze directly towards her. "If he does not return."

Siri wiped away tears that threatened to spill over her lashes.

"I am such a fool little one. He is not mine to grieve for, for he will most certainly leave anyways once the battle is done, and I will remain, again alone. I dare not speak his name out loud or even to myself, because if I do he will be real, it will be real. And when he leaves he will take my hope and my life with himself. I must steel myself against his departure, but I cannot."

Loki took the chance to brush his nose across her breasts, and to lay his head in her lap, trying to project some kind of comfort towards her, all the while drinking in her own compassions, fingers that stroked his head, a heartbeat that steadied his, and the gentle breathing, that even through her sorrow, lulled him into a peacefulness such as he could not ever remember feeling before.

It took everything he had, all the strength he could muster to not simply transform himself right there, to take her into his arms, to kiss her soundly, to touch her, caress her, have her there in the hay. To prove to her that he wouldn't leave her behind. But the realization of those feelings was overwhelming to him, and perhaps that confusion saved them both. When he felt her hand drop away from him limply and saw her eyes close in slumber he extricated himself, disappearing into the night, confusion guiding his steps back to his own bed.

"Siri!" The booming voice of the stable master cut through the typical morning sounds of the stables before the sun even rose. It stirred her from a fitful sleep, her eyes blinking as she established exactly where she was; asleep on the floor of the stable. And as her mind woke her thoughts turned to the foal and she reached for it, finding only emptiness beneath her fingers.

"Little one?" She called out for him, head darting back and forth to search for him. Finding nothing she shook her head, wondering if it all could have just been a dream. The master was calling for her, and the anxiety of what the impending morning was to bring brought her to her feet.

Breaking his fast had been a gut-wrenching experience, everything tasting sour as Loki considered what he would have to face that day; and he wasn't even considering his adversaries on the battlefield. He laced his boots, threw his cape over his shoulders and fastened his shield and sword over that for the ride. He met with Thor, also on his way to the stables, a confident smile on his face, Mijolnir at his belt. The white horse, Bolt was waiting outside, but Siri and Brutus were nowhere to be seen, and so Loki entered, heading for the stall he knew to be the horse's. She was there, bent over the stirrup, testing the knots, her back to him, shoulders tense.

"Siri?" He whispered, not wanting to startle her.

She turned slowly, a sad smile on her face, which she tried to cover with the curled-up edges. Her eyes were reddened, which still did nothing to dispel their pale sparkle.

"Everything is ready for you." She said, equally as quietly as she stepped away from Brutus, letting her hand rest on his cheek.

"Thank you, Siri."

"Listen to your master my strong boy." She patted the horse. "Bring him home safely."

Loki put a foot into the stirrup and hoisted himself halfway up the flanks of the massive horse, then paused and stepped back.

"Have I forgotten something?" Siri's voice broke with concern and sadness.

"No, I have."

With a simple gesture his riding gloves vanished, and he wrapped his fingers around the back of her head, pulling her to him, forcing his mouth over hers, letting every ounce of desperation and longing flow into the kiss. He pulled breath from her chest and replaced it with his own as he ground his lips against hers, inviting her to taste him as he tasted her, tongues mingling. Loki felt her arms drape loosely around his hips, showing no signs of pulling away from his passions. His fingers twined into her white hair, a moan, perhaps his, escaped from between them and he pulled away from her to take a breath, resting his forehead against hers, her own panting breaths raising gooseflesh on his skin.

"Say my name Siri, please, say my name."

She looked at him, eyes brimming with tears, lips quivering, hesitating, pleading.

"Please."

"Loki."

His mouth found hers again, his arms enveloping her body, holding her against the fear. He backed her up against the wall of the horse's stall, hands moving beneath the hem of her tunic top, fingers brushing against her bare skin, remembering the feeling of his head in her lap, remembering the passions it had stirred, wanting to go so much further.

"Loki!" The booming voice of his brother echoed down the center hallway.

Pulling away again, Loki cursed under his breath. Siri stared up at him, eyes liquid, cheeks flushed, lips red and bruised from his vigor.

"I will return for you Siri, I am real, this is real, and so is my promise to you."

Mounting his horse in a fluid movement, he materialized his helmet and Loki led the beast out to the paddock where his brother waited.

There was absolutely nothing that was going to be able to keep her away from that field, not after that, not with the feelings he had unleashed in her. Siri knew that there were carts to follow the soldiers, filled with supplies, and she knew they would hide her well enough to avoid detection until it was too late to send her back. So, secreting herself away under a worn cloak, between bales of hay, Siri waited for the wagon to begin its journey, then for it to end, all the while, replaying the feel of his fingers on her skin and the taste of his mouth in their kisses.

While the war horses could run, those pulling the wagons proceeded at a much slower pace. And as the hours grew, and the pace settled into a methodical gait her anxiety began to grow, each heavy footfall making her heart beat faster, afraid of where he might be, and what he might be facing.

Upon her arrival at the outskirts of the encampment Siri stole from the wagon and hid herself away amongst the tents, trying to stay out of sight while working her ways towards what she supposed was the heart of the place, where she could overhear battle plans and reports. Fortunately, she had learned how to move quietly, and to be unobtrusive; and was generally ignored anyways, so it was not so difficult a task. It was astounding to her how quickly an encampment could be raised, makeshift roads between tents, kitchens and stables, none of which had existed that morning, creating a great many nooks where one could hide. Even some of the sisters had made the journey, prepared to tend to the wounded, and she made a point to give them a wide berth as she explored. Scouts thundered through the camp, hooves kicking up the earth as information was returned to the generals about the troop movements, and the state of the enemy camp, as best as could be ascertained through espionage. Men sat on camp stools and sharpened weapons, the shrill sound of wet-stones, fires blazing, and wood being hewn to burn added to the cacophony, all of which made it easier to pass amongst them, the cloak wrapped tightly around herself, the hood pulled low. Their war tent was a hub of activity, with the aforementioned scouts barging past the entrance flaps, the canvas snapping with their authority. There was no chance to glimpse inside as they came and went, so large were their armored forms, so she crept around the back and tried to hide out of their line of sight to listen, and to see if she could make out the voice of the one she could not bear to lose.

His was not one of the voices she heard, there were those of the General; Thor, and other soldiers, but their words meant little to her, the sisters never having occasion to speak about battles and wars. It seemed more prudent, after many minutes, to seek out the horses, and ascertain whether he might still be in the camp, or if he had gone out with one of the scouting parties earlier. The horses proved much easier to find, and Brutus was not amongst them. Though there seemed to be some commotion amongst the others, and it became obvious why, when the massive black steed thundered into view at the edge of the encampment, startling the still fenced in animals, and prompting them to nervous whinnies and hoof stomping, if for no other reason, then because Brutus had no rider.

A alarm was raised in the camp, not that Siri heard any of it, she was racing forward to Brutus, her cloak flying open, hood lost, desperate to catch up the horse's reigns and slow his maniacal progress before he hurt himself, or others, and being so much closer, and much more light of foot, she did reach him first. Though wild-eyed, Brutus recognized her, and came to a violent halt, raising dirt in clots around his hooves.

"Brutus!" She screamed at him, not in anger, but terror. "Where is your master?"

The horse bent his head to her and she laid her hand upon it, trying to comfort the frightened animal. She could feel the panic that had driven the animal back to camp, and she took the images that he gave her, of what had become of Loki.

There was barely time to process what was happening, when Siri was nearly overrun by the soldiers, Thor amongst them, calling out for his brother.

"Loki!"

She could feel the power of that voice vibrate through her chest, but there wasn't time to explain herself, no, she had to get back out into the field with Brutus. And snatching a bow and quiver from a likewise stunned man in her proximity, she leapt onto Brutus' back, tucking her legs against his withers, and slinging the quiver and bow over her shoulders as the beast turned himself around at the nudge of her hands in his mane, beginning to gallop back into the fray.

"Who is that girl!" Thor bellowed. No one around him had any idea but didn't dare admit that to their leader. "Well follow her!" He commanded. Other horses were made ready, but that took time, time enough for them all to lose sight of Brutus and his mysterious rider.

The wind at their sides would have normally pulled her from her mount, but so determined was she to find Loki that her grip became supernatural. Around her was nothing but a blur, punctuated by a horrible smell that made her want to gag as she took breath after breath in through her mouth as if she herself was doing the running of her mount. Clouds of ash (at least she assumed it was ash) began to rise around them both and the sounds of steel on steel began to cut through the pounding of her own heart in her ears. Afraid of what she was about to come upon Siri pulled an arrow from the quiver at her waist and nocked it onto her bowstring.

Whatever the creatures were, they were nothing that Siri had ever seen before, even in her nightmares. They were huge, porcine looking things, garbed in armor, swinging weapons that looked better suited to blacksmiths and butchers than soldiers, and in their midst, a figure of green and gold, swinging a glorious blade of Asgardian steel, hacking cuts into their bodies that poured a foul black ichor; the source of the terrible stench. Raising the bow she took a deep breath and loosed an arrow towards the one nearest to her. She hit her mark, but the shaft bounced harmlessly off the thing's thick hide, or armor, Siri couldn't make out the difference on its back. It turned towards her, and with barely a thought she nocked a second arrow and aimed for its unprotected face. The arrow bit through its cheek, the point meeting the inside of its helmet with a thud that echoed amongst the ash clouds and stole whatever surprise she might have hoped to retain. The beast fell to its knees in a slow-motion slump before keeling forward. Its mates all turned to catch her in their sights. And that motion gave Loki the advantage as he dropped to his own knees, swinging his blade in a wide arc, hobbling a half dozen within the circle, then driving the blade upwards into the soft spot below the chin of a seventh. He too earned the thud of a helmet struck from the inside before he pulled his blade backwards, slick with the black blood. At the moment he stood Siri kicked her legs against Brutus and the horse charged for Loki, Siri extending her free right hand to him, grabbing him up, guiding his leap with all the strength she had to swing him into the saddle behind her.

Neither spoke a word, in truth there wasn't time as Siri turned the horse in a wide arc with her knees, retrieving another arrow as Loki pulled his sword from its sheath on his back, and readied it against the mass of creatures who stood between them and their encampment.

Arrows flew and the sword blade sliced as they ran, till the arrows were exhausted and Siri leaned herself down over Brutus' mane, allowing Loki the reach of a full circle, the ichor flying in a hideous spatter. She could feel it landing on her naked skin where it stung like an insect bite before she was able to wipe the most bothersome drops off on her tattered cloak. And suddenly there was fire, and blackness and the pounding of her heart over everything else, and nothingness.

He was focusing on the troops that impeded them, the Kursed, beings he had seen before, in the company of Maliketh. And though he had not seen one of the Dark Elves himself, he did not doubt that they were behind the incursion onto this planet. Siri had been launching arrows at them with great skill, helping to clear their path, while he himself had been cutting down those that approached from their flanks. Now it was left to the mighty hooves of Brutus to beat them back from the path, and her skill with guiding him. Until it changed suddenly as Siri's body suddenly slumped to her right, the horse turning with it and Loki threw his left arm out to catch her from sliding off the mount. His hand met slick blood as he grasped her right side and he screamed out her name.

"Siri!" But there was no hoped-for response. And so he drove his heels into the horse's flanks and yelled at him as he pulled the reins back to the left.

"I don't know if you can understand me, but if you can, You. Need. To. Run!"


End file.
